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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354414">Morning Sunshine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel'>galaxystiel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writers of Destiel Bingo [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Human, Baker Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sick Character, Teacher Castiel (Supernatural)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:33:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel visits Morning Sunshine bakery every day before work.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writers of Destiel Bingo [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Writers of Destiel Writer's Choice Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Morning Sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Writers of Destiel 'Writer's Choice' Bingo, for the prompt, "Bakery AU".</p><p>Thank you to Courtney for being a fantastic beta, and to the Writers of Destiel chat for brainstorming with me when I was ready to give up.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Friday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Castiel pushed open the door to Morning Sunshine Bakery with only a mild amount of hesitation. His concern was pushed aside to be momentarily forgotten as warmth washed over him from the interior. The scene of sugary sweetness, fresh pastries, and freshly-brewed coffee assaulted his senses and Castiel inhaled deeply.</p><p>For a moment, it was heavenly. And then he remembered why he’d been reluctant to open the door in the first place.</p><p>“Dean,” the redhead behind the counter bellowed. “Your favourite customer is here!”</p><p>Castiel tried to signal for Charlie to stop, but it was too late. There was the sound of clattering out the back and then the source of Castiel’s daily irritation burst through the door from the kitchens. Great. The baker was seemingly oblivious to the flour that was smeared all up his cheek, but it did nothing to hide how attractive he was.</p><p>Sighing, Castiel cut his losses. “Good morning. A medium black coffee and— </p><p>“No, no, no.” Dean tsked, cutting him off with a stern wag of his finger. “You should know the drill by now.”</p><p>Castiel felt a burst of annoyance but tried his best to reign it in. “Must we go through this <em> every day </em>?”</p><p>“I don’t make the rules.” That was a lie, and they both knew it. “Come on. You know what to say.”</p><p>“Morning sunshine,” Castiel ground out, the words torn from him only because he knew Dean would delay his order the longer he resisted, and he’d be late for work. “A medium black coffee and the special of the day. What is the special of the day today?”</p><p>“A millefeuille of nutmeg poached pear, rose diplomat cream and topped with a candied rose petal and a dusting of vanilla nutmeg sugar,” Dean announced proudly. </p><p>Beside him, the redhead—Charlie, Castiel remembered—was already ringing his order through the register. “That’ll be seven dollars exactly.”</p><p>Dean cleared his throat. “Or free, if you give me your phone number.”</p><p>Castiel ignored him, passing some crisp dollar bills to Charlie and pushing a few singles in the tip jar. “I don’t know why I keep tipping you,” he told her. “You subject me to this every day. You could just not tell him I’m here.”</p><p>Charlie shrugged, but a smile tugged at her lips. “He’s the boss.”</p><p>“I’m right here,” Dean replied, clutching at his chest and pretending to be wounded. “C’mon, Cas, just give me your phone number. We’ll go out once and if you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you again.”</p><p>Castiel reached across the counter to take the coffee and boxed-up pastry that Charlie was offering him. “No, thank you. Have a lovely day.”</p><p>He pursed his lips and left, his steps hasty as he hurried to work. It was nearing eight, and he had a few things to prepare before his class of eager first graders arrived for the day.</p><p>The millefeuille was delicious, the flavours subtle and balanced, and more than made up for the exertion of ordering it.</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Sunday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you just go out with him?” Gabriel asked. “You just said it yourself, he’s hot.”</p><p>Castiel rolled his eyes, his cheeks pink. “Because he doesn’t really want to go out with me. I just shut him down the first time he asked, and he’s turned it into some sort of game.”</p><p>“So then take him up on his offer,” Gabriel pressed. “It costs exactly one night of your life and then he’ll never bother you again. If you’re so sure you’ll have a horrible time.”</p><p>“That’s not it,” Castiel sighed. “He’s very attractive and charismatic. I’m sure we’d have a wonderful time. He seems… pretty great. But it would just be that one night, and that’s not what I’m looking for.”</p><p>Castiel could feel Gabriel’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t quite able to meet his gaze, preferring instead to keep his eyes on a crack in the sidewalk. He knew his brother was just looking out for him, but he just wanted to be able to pick up pastries and coffee —from the only place in a thirty mile radius that sold palatable coffee—without being hit on.</p><p>“How do you know that’s what he’s after?”</p><p>“I just do. If he wanted more, he’d have asked me out after learning more than my name.” Castiel shrugged, and then sneezed violently. And then again.</p><p>Gabriel reached out and pressed a hand to Castiel’s forehead. “You’re feeling a bit warm. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”</p><p>“I hope not,” Castiel groaned. “But little Krissy Chambers was sent home with a fever on Friday, so it’s possible.”</p><p>“Well, Morning Sunshine is only a couple of blocks away. We’ll stop in and get you some tea and I can check out the guy hitting on my baby bro.” Gabriel smirked.</p><p>Castiel groaned, but didn’t object. Tea sounded pretty good right now, and maybe Gabriel being there would field off Dean’s unwanted attention for the day.</p><p>Though the day itself was warm, the heat that radiated from inside Morning Sunshine was welcome, the chill that seemed to have begun settling in Castiel’s bones momentarily fading away.</p><p>Charlie wasn’t at her usual position behind the counter, replaced by a tall, bearded man that was reminiscent of a bear, but he had a twinkle in his kind blue eyes.</p><p>“Hey, Benny,” Castiel greeted. The upside of being a regular meant that he was familiar with pretty much all of the rotating staff at Morning Sunshine.</p><p>“Mornin’, Chief,” Benny smiled. “Don’t often see you in here on a Sunday. Don’t tell me that school has got you so busy you’re workin’ your weekend away?”</p><p>Castiel shook his head. “No, just spending time with my brother. He’s got a sweet tooth and wanted to know where I keep getting the pastries I’m always raving about,” he nodded towards his brother, who practically had his nose pressed to the glass of one of the display cases, eyeing the goods inside.</p><p>“Well now, the owner would be mighty pleased to hear that. I’ll just go and get him.”</p><p>Castiel straightened hurriedly. “No, there’s no need to bother him, really...”</p><p>“Nonsense,” Benny talked over him loudly, the twinkle in his eye growing more pronounced as he turned towards the kitchen door. Apparently Dean had gotten to him, too. “Dean, there’s a patron here who wants to pass on his compliments.”</p><p>“Coming!” Dean called, and then he was pushing his way through the door, wiping his hands on a towel.</p><p>Castiel saw the moment Dean’s eyes zeroed in on him and the way his face lit up with interest. He sighed, and intercepted the baker before he could embarrass him in front of Gabriel. Just because he’d confided in his brother, it didn’t mean he wanted him to have a front-row seat to Castiel’s daily humiliation.</p><p>“Morning, sunshine,” he said firmly. “A cup of earl grey and the special of the day, for here. What is it?”</p><p>“A tiramisu charlotte,” Dean explained. “It’s a three layer cake of a light coffee sponge, chocolate ganache and whipped mascarpone mousse, surrounded by lady fingers and topped with chocolate-coated espresso beans.”</p><p>“Ooh, I’ll have one of those too, Cassie. And a cappuccino.” Gabriel joined his brother, his attention thoroughly caught by the mention of dessert.</p><p>A strange look passed over Dean’s face as his gaze drifted from Castiel to Gabriel and back again. “Coming right up,” he said at last. “Do you want lemon or milk with your Earl Grey?”</p><p>“Lemon,” Castiel replied. He shifted awkwardly at the misconception he could read on Dean’s face and felt an unnecessary urge to correct it, but felt doing so would give the wrong impression.</p><p>“And your, um, date?” Dean asked, far too casually.</p><p>“Ordered cappuccino,” Castiel pointed out dryly. As Dean’s cheeks turned pink, Castiel took pity on him. “And my <em> date </em>, as you called him, is actually my brother.”</p><p>“Your brother,” Dean repeated.</p><p>Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you can’t see the family resemblance? No? I suppose I did get all the good looks,” he sighed a long-suffering sigh.</p><p>Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose. “How much?”</p><p>“Fourteen bucks,” Dean said with a grin. “Unless—”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“—you’d like to consider—”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“—giving me your number?”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Dean stopped. “Why what?”</p><p>“Why do you want to go out with me?” Castiel asked. “Why do you ask me every day, as if my answer will ever change?”</p><p>Awkwardly, Gabriel cleared his throat and signalled Benny over so they could finish up the transaction, sidling away from Castiel not-so-subtly. </p><p>Castiel kept his eyes fixed on Dean’s, unwavering and unflinching. Almost challenging him. Dean’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he seemed to struggle on how to reply. </p><p>“Well, why do you always say no? Why won’t you give me a chance? I think we’d have a nice time,” Dean finished lamely.</p><p>“That’s not the problem. The fact is that your interest in me is purely superficial. You know nothing about me, other than you seem to find me physically attractive. Do you know where I work, what my profession is? What my favourite animal is?”</p><p>Dean floundered, as if Castiel had put him on the spot. He looked like he was about to answer, but then his jaw clenched with defiance. “Well, how am I supposed to know that?”</p><p>“By talking to me. Or showing any interest in me besides my appearance. It’s a little shallow.”</p><p>Dean’s face lost what little colour it had left. “You think I’m shallow?”</p><p>“No,” Castiel said gently. “I don’t. I’m sure you’re a lovely person, Dean. I’m just not interested in dating you and that’s not likely to change any time soon.”</p><p>Dean didn’t answer, just spun on his heel and disappeared into the back. The kitchen door shut silently behind him and Castiel was left with all eyes upon him.</p><p>“Maybe we could get those drinks to go?” Gabriel mumbled, as Castiel stalked out of the door, shoulders locked with tension and his legs feeling suddenly wobbly.</p><p>He found refuge on a bench along the street and settled there, feeling his racing pulse slowly subside into less of a hum, and actually resemble individual beats. Castiel balled his hands into fists and pressed them into his eyes, cursing anything and everything under his breath.</p><p>Gabriel sat down next to him, but it was still a moment or two before Castiel was able to look up, taking the tea and cupping it in his hands.</p><p>“That was a little harsh, Cassie.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Castiel sighed, already regretting his actions. He pushed the box containing the charlottes towards Gabriel, knowing it would just leave a bitter taste in his mouth that would have nothing to do with the coffee. “I know.”</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Wednesday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>The slight temperature and sneezes scuppered any chances Castiel had of apologising on Monday. Developing into a full-blown fever, Castiel was bedridden for the first half of the week and only on Wednesday did he feel well enough to get himself to the doctor.</p><p>He emerged with a sick note that wrote him off for the entire week, despite his protests that he couldn’t abandon his kids so close to the end of the year. Doing nothing never really sat well with him, Castiel preferred to keep busy. And he loved his class. It was Jack Kline’s birthday on Friday, he didn’t want to miss it.</p><p>With nothing to do, and his appetite slightly returning, he made the decision to return to Morning Sunshine. Some tea would do wonders, and he had the added bonus of looking sniffly and pathetic when he apologised, hopefully softening Dean’s demeanour towards his unforgivable rudeness.</p><p>“You’re alive,” Charlie smiled as he entered the bakery. “Haven’t seen you yet this week, I thought you might be dead.”</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure I’m not dead,” Castiel sniffled. He was sure he looked a mess, with a bright red nose and his hair sticking up on end. “Can I get a cup of Assam?”</p><p>“Coming right up.”</p><p>She immediately set to her task of making the tea, and gave no impression that she was about to call for Dean as usual. Castiel wasn’t sure what motivated that choice, whether she was taking pity on him while he was sick, or if Dean had told her not to.</p><p>He wasn’t sure how to feel about either choice.</p><p>“No pastry today?” Castiel shook his head. He didn’t think anything rich or indulgent would help with the headache that had been pounding in his skull since Sunday morning.</p><p>“Is Dean in the back?”</p><p>The only sign that Charlie knew what had transpired between them was her hand slowing as she reached for the sugar. “Yeah, want me to get him?”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>Charlie slid his cup across the counter and disappeared into the back. Taking the tea, Castiel felt his strength wane and he practically fell into the nearest chair. He sipped slowly, closing his eyes and taking slow breaths as he savoured the spiced liquid.</p><p>“Cas? Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Castiel forced his eyes to open and his gaze fell on Dean, concern etched onto his face. Concern that Castiel didn’t deserve after he’d been so rude. “Thank you, I… I was sick. I’m on the mend, I’m still a little drained and I guess the walk here took too much out of me.”</p><p>Dean nodded curtly. “Wait here.” He disappeared and Castiel didn’t have the energy to see where he went. He just sipped his tea, feeling his strength slowly return thanks to the sugar Charlie had kindly added.</p><p>By the time Dean returned, he was feeling a little more himself and a little more coherent, although his legs trembled at the thought of the walk back to his apartment.</p><p>“Here.” A bowl was placed in front of him, a spoon laid beside it. Castiel could smell something wonderful and savoury, a mixture of lemongrass and warming spices, and from the steam coming off it, it was hot. Slices of freshly baked bread adorned the side of the bowl, slathered liberally with butter and Castiel privately thought he’d never seen a more enticing meal.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“It’s chicken noodle soup,” Dean said bluntly. “Eat it.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you sold soup here,” Castiel blinked dumbly. His stomach rumbled but he held off from digging in.</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow. “We don’t,” he said reluctantly. “But that bug you got is going around. Benny got a load of it too, I made this soup for him, but I had enough left for you too.”</p><p>Castiel stared down into the bowl and his heart lurched in his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered, not finding the words to express how grateful he was for Dean’s kindness.</p><p>“Eat your soup, Cas, and then I’ll drive you home.”</p><p>Since it would be rude to do anything else, Castiel dug in. It was probably rude not to savour the textures, the subtlety of the herbs and spices that Dean had someone managed to balance perfectly, but Castiel was suddenly aware more than anything that he was starving. Saltines simply weren’t cutting it, and the reintroduction of something flavourful into his system had him falling upon this soup like it was his first meal in weeks.</p><p>He ate spoonful after spoonful until the bowl was empty, the bread long since devoured. Castiel set the utensil down and drained the last of his tea. He felt more human than he had in days.</p><p>“You ready to go?” Dean appeared beside him suddenly, minus his apron, and Castiel’s cheeks flooded with embarrassment. He’d barely been aware of where he was, all his focus had been on his soup.</p><p>“I—yes. Thank you. I can make my own way—”</p><p>“Charlie can manage the shop for ten minutes or so,” Dean interrupted, already pulling on his jacket. “Come on.”</p><p>Castiel decided it was in his best interest to do as he was told. He followed Dean out to his car, with no time to admire it before he was bundled inside. He reached for his seatbelt, but Dean was already there.</p><p>“I got it,” he told Castiel in a tone that brooked no argument.</p><p>Castiel decided he couldn’t bear it, the detached kindness wasn’t something he’d come to associate with Dean. It wasn’t familiar and it wasn’t comfortable.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Dean, I’m sorry for everything I said to you. I was unquestionably rude. I would have told you right away the next time I was in, but then I got sick…”</p><p>He might have imagined it, but he thought Dean’s expression softened a little at the apology, even as he settled behind the wheel. “You weren’t rude, you were honest. The words might have been unkind, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t accurate. But for future reference, apologies can wait until you’re better. You don’t drag your ass into a place that sells food when you’re under the weather.”</p><p>Castiel managed a smile, despite being chastised. “Understood,” he said meekly. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive me home?”</p><p>“Just tell me where to go,” Dean gave him a brief smile and looked away.</p><p>There wasn’t much call for conversation on the ride back to Castiel’s apartment. The sounds of classic rock that Castiel only vaguely recognised punctuated the silence between them that would otherwise have only been broken by Castiel’s occasional direction.</p><p>Ever the gentleman, Dean insisted on seeing Castiel inside and making sure he was comfortable. Castiel now thoroughly felt the efforts of his excursion and crawled under his covers fully dressed, while Dean went to get him a glass of water.</p><p>“I’ve left you more soup in the fridge,” Dean told him, setting the water down on Castiel’s nightstand. “I don’t want to see you at the bakery until at least Monday, hear me?”</p><p>Through sleepy eyes, Castiel saw Dean hesitate by his bedside, as if he wanted to say or do something. He thought he felt the ghost of a hand carding through his hair, and then his eyes were too heavy to stay open any longer.</p><p>It wasn’t until he woke up later that evening that he realised he hadn’t even attempted to pay Dean for the tea or the soup.</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Monday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>The weekend had passed again before Castiel felt he was fully recovered and could once again venture out into public.</p><p>He was back at work today, and at the top of his priorities was stopping by Morning Sunshine, for a quick fix of coffee and something delicious and sweet. Castiel usually preferred the less-sweet flavours, but after a week without his daily treat, he wanted something sugary and amazing.</p><p>The line at the bakery was far longer than Castiel had ever seen it, stretching out through the doors and down the street. Dozens of patrons, businessmen and women alike, homeless people, soccer moms, all lining up around the block.</p><p>Castiel sighed. He simply didn’t have the time to wait, but he wanted to thank and repay Dean for his kindness on Wednesday. He pushed his way to the bakery door, apologising and ignoring all the angry patrons telling him not to cut in line.</p><p>“Charlie,” he called, spotting the redhead behind the counter along with Benny and Kevin, a student that only worked during the extra busy periods. “I need to pay for my drink the other day, but—”</p><p>“Come back after school’s out,” Charlie shouted back, too busy to even stop and pay attention to him, scrawling information on cup after cup. “I’ll make sure there’s a special left for you.”</p><p>That seemed like the best course of action, so Castiel made his way to work, wondering what the deal was with Morning Sunshine. It was never quiet, Dean’s skill with baked goods was renowned around town and brought plenty of repeat customers. But it had never been that level of busy before.</p><p>He thought no more about the bakery as he arrived at work, and when his first graders arrived, he was far too busy to spare Morning Sunshine a second thought. But as he left school that afternoon, he found himself moving with haste.</p><p>The line was all but gone and Charlie had already left for the day, but she’d kept her word. Benny served Castiel his tea—Lapsang Souchong, today—and promised to bring the special over to him if Castiel wanted to take a seat.</p><p>“What was with the rush this morning?” Castiel asked, the smoky flavour of the tea rolling over his tongue pleasantly. “Did you get a good Yelp review or something?”</p><p>Benny shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Dean decided to give away free takeout coffee to every customer today. His brother graduated from law school today <em> summa cum laude </em>.”</p><p>“Impressive. Is Dean at the graduation then?”</p><p>“Nah.” Benny snorted. “Sam goes to Stanford. Dean ain’t one for flyin’ and he didn’t want to take the time off to drive to California. You ain’t never seen anyone as proud of anythin’ as Dean is of his kid brother. He’s a good guy, you know, if you gave him a chance.”</p><p>He disappeared into the back before Castiel could ask anything else, and he returned to his tea, taking another sip. He only looked when some off-key singing drew his attention and Dean stalked from the kitchen holding a tray and singing Bon Jovi at the top of his lungs. A grin spanned his face from ear-to-ear.</p><p>Castiel suddenly understood what Benny meant, and Dean came to a stop by his table, setting a plate down in front of him.</p><p>“Special of the day. A flourless dark chocolate cake, filled with pistachio cream and honey streusel topping. Glad to see you’re looking better.”</p><p>“I attribute that entirely to your soup. Thank you for taking care of me.” Castiel smiled.</p><p>Benny let out a choking sound and glared at Dean, having caught the words on his way out of the kitchen. “You goddamn lyin’ son of a gun, you gave him my soup and said you never made any!”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” Castiel whispered, pulled an apologetic face, wincing at Benny’s sudden flare of temper.</p><p>Dean didn’t even seem deterred by Benny’s scowl, the grin on his face not wavering for a moment. “Benny, stop grumbling, you’re scaring my customers.” He turned back to Castiel and shrugged. “He’ll get over it. Mind if I sit?”</p><p>Castiel blinked and tentatively gestured to the seat opposite. “By all means. Mind if I eat?”</p><p>The smile on Dean’s face grew wider. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.” He seemed content to watch Castiel enjoy the dessert, watching with rapt interest as Castiel took a bite.</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“It’s...amazing,” Castiel sighed. “I mean, everything in here always is. You have a wonderful way with flavour. But this is somehow… everything I love about baking. It’s not as sweet as I would have expected, but there’s still so much depth of flavour.”</p><p>Dean inclined his head. “I used honey instead of sugar. I stumbled on your collection when I was looking for a glass. At first I thought you might just be really unhealthy, but then I thought maybe you just preferred to sweeten things with honey instead of sugar.”</p><p>“I do,” Castiel admitted, patting his mouth clumsily with a napkin. “Natural sweetness like fresh fruit and honey is the perfect level for me. I always think they uplift more bitter flavours, like lavender or dark chocolate.”</p><p>Dean leaned back in his seat and Castiel flushed as he realised he was telling Dean his business. “You do a perfect job with all that. I could never get the balance right if I tried to bake myself. I just know the kind of flavours I enjoy.” He changed topics rapidly. “I hear congratulations are in order, anyway. Your brother?”</p><p>“Thanks. Always knew Sammy would make it. I never had what it takes for college myself, so I never worried about it. We didn’t have much growing up, but I knew I’d find the money for him to go no matter what. Of course, he made that pointless by getting a full ride.”</p><p>“It’s very commendable,” Castiel agreed. “You must be very proud of him.”</p><p>“I am.” </p><p>There was a moment of awkward silence between them that was interrupted by a loud beep from the kitchen. Dean got to his feet hurriedly.</p><p>“The cookies are done. I need to—yeah.”</p><p>Castiel nodded, and licked his lips as Dean walked away. “Dean,” he called out abruptly. “I—how much do I owe you? For today and Wednesday?</p><p>Dean’s eyes were soft as they looked back at him. “Seven bucks. Wednesday was on me.”</p><p>Castiel finished his tea and told himself that he wasn’t allowed to be surprised or disappointed that Dean hadn’t attempted to get his phone number.</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Saturday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>“Let me get this straight, you’re telling me the hottie baker hasn’t hit on you once since you shut him down completely, and you’re disappointed by that?” The look on Gabriel’s face was one of frustration and clearly read that he thought Castiel was an idiot.</p><p>“I wouldn’t say disappointed,” Castiel corrected him. “Confused, maybe. But it’s… different. He doesn’t hit on me anymore. He talks to me like I’m just another person.”</p><p>“So what’s the problem? That’s what you wanted, right? You wanted him to stop riling you up and getting you to call him sunshine every day.”</p><p>Castiel shrugged, his face flushing. “Yes. But then he was all sweet when I was sick. He made me soup and took me home. He had to know I couldn’t turn down a date with him after that. But he didn’t even ask.”</p><p>“You ever think that’s why he didn’t ask? I wouldn’t want to go out with someone who felt indebted to me. Upsets the balance.”</p><p>That was an answer that Castiel could understand and latch onto. That was why he was so concerned over how things had changed with Dean over the last week or so. He was feeling indebted to him and that was clouding his judgement.</p><p>“Thanks, Gabriel,” he sighed. “That helped.”</p><p>“No, don’t thank me. I can see on your face that you’ve totally misinterpreted my words.”</p><p>Castiel frowned. “What makes you think—?”</p><p>Gabriel fixed him with a pointed look. “You’re telling me you’re not convincing yourself that the reason you feel weird about not being hit on is because you’re grateful the guy had some common human decency? Come on.”</p><p>Flushing, Castiel tore his eyes away from his brother and glared at a particularly annoying looking tree. “I <em> am </em> grateful.”</p><p>“Sure. And you’re also kind of mad about the guy. You forget that I grew up with you, baby bro, and I’ve met every idiot you ever dated. The people who get under your skin, they’re the people you care about the most. If you’re not interested in them, they don’t even register.”</p><p>“That’s not… that’s not <em> entirely </em> true,” Castiel objected. “I did want him to stop hitting on me. I do believe his reasons were shallow.”</p><p>“Exactly. His <em> reasons </em>. You were offended that he was only interested in what he could see, not the person behind it. If he’d made the effort to talk to you like he has this week and asked for your number, you wouldn’t have turned him down.”</p><p>“Yes, I—” Castiel paused and actually gave that scenario some thought. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d have probably given him my number. You’re right.”</p><p>“Of course I am. So, now that I’ve blown your mind, do you want to head over there today? I could do with something sweet and delicious.”</p><p>He did. He really did. Castiel could imagine the look on Dean’s face if he surprised him by calling in on a weekend again, and he selfishly wanted that expression all to himself.</p><p>“No,” he said eventually. The clarity had unnerved him and he needed to think. “Let’s go somewhere else today.”</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Tuesday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>What truly cemented things for Castiel was completely unrelated to Morning Sunshine. The bell had long since rang, signalling the end of the school day. Castiel had helped his students with their hats and bags and seen them off safely into the hands of their parents.</p><p>Only one student remained, staring around at the empty yard with a slight wobble to her lip. “Mr. Cas, I don’t see Jody.” She tugged at his sleeve, tears threatening. “Am I gonna be left here all alone?”</p><p>Castiel crouched so he was level with her, tapping her gently on the nose. “Of course not, honey. Jody called me at lunch and said something had come up at work. Your uncle is going to be picking you up today, he’s just running a little bit late.”</p><p>“He is?” All previous signs of tears disappeared as Claire cheered, bouncing on the spot as she looked around again, seeking any sign of her uncle. “Yay! That means I get lots of cake.”</p><p>Hiding his smile, Castiel made sure Claire’s coat was all buttoned and she had everything ready to go for when her uncle arrived.</p><p>“There he is!” she shrieked, pointing behind Castiel. “Uncle Dean! Here I am!”</p><p>Castiel straightened up, his jaw going slack in surprise as Dean jogged up to them, sweaty and out of breath. What was more, he didn’t seem to be at all stunned by Castiel’s presence, almost as if he’d known to expect him here.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” Dean panted, bent double as he tried to get his breath back. “Got here as quick as I could. Misjudged how long the walk was. Hey, sproglet. Ready to come to the bakery?”</p><p>With a cry, Claire flung herself on Dean, who forgot he was supposed to be out of breath and lifted her up into the air, twirling her round. Castiel watched them, his heart full at the sight of them both laughing.</p><p>“Mr. Cas! My uncle owns the best bakery in the whole world. He makes the <em> best </em> black and white cookies.”</p><p>“The best,” Dean agreed, setting Claire down and taking her hand. “And there’s some waiting especially for you right now.” His attention shifted back to Castiel. “Thanks for waiting for me. I hope I didn’t put you behind too much.”</p><p>“Oh, no, I’m done for the day,” Castiel assured him. “I was actually going to head along for some tea, but if you have your hands full—”</p><p>“No! We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, sproglet? Do you think Mr. Cas should come with us to see the bakery?”</p><p>When Claire cheered, Castiel smiled widely. “Well, that’s decided then, off we go.”</p><p>Claire slipped her tiny hand into Castiel’s, and they walked leisurely out of the gates and through the park.</p><p>“I was surprised to see you,” he murmured to Dean. “I didn’t realise you had another sibling?”</p><p>“I don’t,” Dean hummed. “I’m not her uncle, really. Just a friend of the family.”</p><p>Castiel made an ‘ah’ face of understanding. “Still, you seem very close. You’re great with her.”</p><p>“Yeah, I love her like she was my own,” Dean admitted. “Jody brings her by every week and she tells me all about her week and I let her make a batch of cookies to take home.”</p><p>“Then you already knew—”</p><p>“—that you were her teacher? Yeah.” Dean clenched his jaw and looked away, and Castiel felt his mouth go dry.</p><p>He licked his lips, not sure how to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them, but thankfully he didn’t need to. Claire chatted enough for all of them, telling Dean about her friends and her schoolwork and telling Castiel about the types of cake Dean made for her birthday.</p><p>“—and he made me this big cake and it was so tall I couldn’t even see the top and it was strawberry because that’s my favourite. What’s your favourite, Mr. Cas?”</p><p>“Hmm? Oh, well, I like honey and lemon. And I really like lavender.”</p><p>“What’s lavender?” Claire asked. “Is it sweet?”</p><p>“No, it’s quite bitter. It’s a flower.”</p><p>Claire shrieked with laughter. “You can’t eat flowers, silly Mr. Cas, you’re supposed to look at them. Isn’t he silly, Uncle Dean?”</p><p>Castiel glanced over at Dean, who had a fond smile on his face and a strange look in his eyes. “The silliest,” he said at last. “We’ll just have to show him that strawberries are the best, huh?”</p><p>“Yes,” Claire said decidedly. “We’ll make Mr. Cas a strawberry cake.”</p><p>As she and Dean made plans, Castiel felt himself wonder how he could have been so wrong about Dean all this time. He’d misjudged him, but now he knew better. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"><b>Thursday</b> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>When Castiel pushed open the door to Morning Sunshine on Thursday afternoon, he was surprised to see Dean already behind the counter, smiling expectantly.</p><p>“Anyone would think you were waiting especially for me,” Castiel commented. “I might start to feel special.”</p><p>Dean leaned against the counter, braced on his elbows. “Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he replied lightly. “But as it happens you are special today. You’ve been randomly selected to taste test my possible new menu addition.”</p><p>Well, that was intriguing. Although it did mean he wouldn’t be able to try the daily special, which had become somewhat of a tradition for him at this point.</p><p>“The special is very sweet today,” Dean reassured him, correctly guessing his hesitation. “White chocolate and caramel. You’ll like this better. Trust me.”</p><p>The way his eyes were gazing into Castiel’s, intense and sincere, made his words impossible to doubt. Trust him to know flavours, to have created something that Castiel would enjoy.</p><p>“I do,” Castiel replied, equally as sincerely. “I would be honoured to test your new dessert, then.”</p><p>As he took his regular seat, Dean disappeared and return presently with a tray, laden with a plate and a cup of tea. Castiel’s eye was instantly drawn to the dessert. It was some sort of bun, or scone, already spread with cream and some kind of fruit preserve. Yet everything Castiel knew about Dean told him that it would never be something so simple.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Why don’t you tell me?” Dean challenged.</p><p>Castiel leaned forward and inhaled deeply, trying to identify the various aromas that tickled his nose.</p><p>“I smell… lavender. And citrus.” Castiel looked up, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, and found Dean smiling across at him with a pleased expression.</p><p>“Very good. These are honey scones, filled with a whipped lemon ricotta, peach curd and dusted liberally with lavender sugar. I call it the Castiel,” Dean teased. “Like I said, I’m thinking about adding it to the menu, pending approval.”</p><p>Castiel laughed, and picked up one half of his scone, the filling spread thickly across the fluffy surface. “It really does look amazing. I’m sure everyone will love it. It might even tempt me away from the daily special on occasion.”</p><p>“Now that would be a compliment,” Dean smiled, turning to head back to the counter as Castiel leaned forward and took a bite.</p><p>His eyes fluttered closed as the flavours danced across his palate. A burst of zingy citrus ricotta hit his mouth first, almost aerated in its lightness. That was quickly followed by the luscious sweetness of the peach curd that left a fresh feeling as it faded. The scone crumbled beautifully in his mouth, not dry and not too dense. It was sweetened with honey, a different kind of sweetness that almost overpowered everything else that had come before, but not quite, instead marrying the flavours. </p><p>Finally came the lavender, the floral aroma that just melted in his mouth. Pungent, bitter, almost woody, but a perfect complement to the sweet honey it had been careful paired with.</p><p>It was art. Where all of these different ingredients might be shades of paint on a canvas, Dean had used them to create a masterpiece of the culinary kind. More than that, he’d done it out of Castiel’s favourite flavours. Dean had put all this together just for him.  Castiel’s eyes opened and he found his feet. Dean turned at the sound of his chair scraping, brow furrowing.</p><p>“Cas,” Dean began, but any words that might have followed were lost as Castiel reached him.</p><p>He kissed Dean with lips that were still smeared with lavender sugar, soft and sweet and filled with intent. It was brief and chaste, but Dean didn’t seem to need long to catch up and get on board. The slight inhalation as Castiel kissed him was the only measure of his surprise. Surprise, but happiness.</p><p>They parted and Dean pulled back just enough to press his forehead to Castiel’s. “You’re still gonna have to pay for that,” he murmured fondly, but his eyes betrayed his amusement. “No freebies.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” Castiel laughed, chasing Dean’s lips again. “”What if I gave you my phone number?”</p><p>Dean grinned, and Castiel felt warm arms slide around his waist, pulling him close. “Well, in that case, maybe we can negotiate a future discount when I call you to arrange our date?”</p><p>Any more words they might have uttered were lost as Castiel closed the gap between them again, abandoning his dessert in favour of a far sweeter feeling.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked this, I'd be honoured if you'd leave me a comment or kudos :)</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://galaxystiel.tumblr.com">MY TUMBLR</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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